Broken Things
by Mentally-Unstable
Summary: One man searches for answers, while another fights for his life. One man may find love, while another may find the pawn he needs in his twisted little game. Two women’s lives are about to take a turn they never expected. OCs, possible spoilers.
1. PrologueBroken Men

**Title:** Broken Things

**Rating: **PG-13(rating _will_ go up in later chapters)

**Genre: **Romance/Drama

**Summary:** One man searches for answers, while another fights for his life. One man may find love, while another may find the pawn he needs in his twisted little game. Two women's lives are about to take a turn they never expected.

**Spoilers: **For the entire first season.

**Author's Note: **MUST READ THIS NOTE! Seriously--read before you flame(or don't flame, because flames will be used to roast babies for my lunch).

**First-**(and second-most important) This is my interpretation of what happens DIRECTLY after the first season finale, and a day after the Kirby Plaza incident. Anything I've read(or seen, depending on when this is posted) concerning the second season has been completely disregarded.

**Second-**(and most important) This was written for the amusement of myself and my sister--and so she could have more fuel to make fun of my Sylar fire. XD

**Third-** Well, I know there's bound to be some plot-holes, but every good story has one, right? Or...several.

**Fourth-**While this story does include OCs, I'm not even sure they can be called OCs since "Heroes" insists on adding all these new people. Just look at them as new characters...? XD Whatever, just read! Haha.

…

_**prologue**_

_**"I'm Not Dead"**_

_Manhattan Sewers_

He didn't know how cockroaches managed to sound so loud in his already aching ears, but he wished the damn things would just stop and let him rest. Quietly rest.

Crawling around in the disgusting underbelly of Manhattan, a part of him just wanted to give up and die--he'd tried, he'd failed, and it was over.

But that was the weaker side thinking. That was the part of himself he's tried to bury--the part of him that would always tell him to give up.

But the strong side of himself, the part he worked so hard to become, knew he couldn't give up. There was always another way. Always another plan.

He could do it. He could rise again.

He just had to remember the keep breathing.

He'd managed the slow the bleeding partially, though he didn't know how much good it was doing. He'd barely slept, and felt like he'd been crawling around for days. There was no way he could tell how long he'd been down there.

He sucked in a deep breath and coughed, blood spewing from his mouth, the taste of iron making him sick to his stomach. Tears streamed down his bloodstained cheeks, but he had to ignore the pain. He didn't know how the hell he was still alive, God only knew it hurt enough to kill him, but he thought it better not to question it. He just had to stay focused, keep looking ahead, and ignore the fact that he was slowly bleeding to death.

He needed help, but he doubted he'd find any in the sewers unless rats now had medical liscenses. His vision was blurring, what little he could see slowly disappearing. He felt his life draining from him, but he couldn't let go. Not yet--not ever.

He'd worked too damn hard. He'd come too damn far.

_Not yet..._

He coughed again. More blood.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and continued on, dragging his half-dead body through the sewers.

For a split second, he saw heaven. Chance. Hope. He blinked to make sure he wasn't delusional, and indeed, he wasn't.

Light.

The faintest trace of twilight seeped into the darkness, and he saw an absolute vision of beauty.

A ladder--leading up to a half-open manhole.

Now, he just had to find the strength to climb.

…

_**chapter one**_

_**"Troubled Men"**_

_Levine Home,_

_Manhattan_

"Have I mentioned how much I hate the fact that you're working for him?"

Ignoring the comment, Melony Levine continued to stressfully gather the documents and items she would need for, what she was sure would be, the hectic night ahead of her.

Standing in the doorway of Melony's office was her sister, Autumn, who continued to talk despite Melony ignoring her.

"I mean, the guys' a certified dirt bag. Do you really want this as your first major political job?"

"Alright!" Melony snapped finally, "I get it. You don't like him. Go blog about it already and leave me alone. You're not the one who's going to be working for him, right? Can it, already!"

Feigning hurt, Autumn shook her head, "Alright, fine. But when he screws you, along with the entire state of New York, don't come cryin' to me."

Breathing a sigh of relief as her sister left, Melony glanced at her watch and continued to try and get her things in order, all the while trying to figure out what was so urgent that she needed to start work a week earlier that expected.

Melony was the personal assistant to Congressman Nathan Petrelli, and he needed her at his Manhattan office immediately. When she'd questioned him as to why, he just said for her to be there as soon as possible.

Finally having everything she needed tucked away safely in her briefcase, Melony exited her office and made her way into the kitchen, where Autumn had already fixed two cups of coffee and was now sitting at the counter on her laptop.

Picking up a cup of coffee, Melony raised an eyebrow, "Any more bashing before I go?"

Autumn shrugged, looking up from the computer screen, "No. But are you sure you wanna do this?"

"Yes. Why?"

"Well, I mean, you have all these degrees in business and economics--do you really wanna be a secretary?"

"I'm a personal assistant. Not a secretary. And everyone has to start somewhere." Melony smirked, "Ok, I'm gone. Don't wait up."

"Hey, that's another thing. Don't you find it odd that he calls you to work at seven-thirty at night? I mean, what if he's a..."

"Say _vampire_ and I'll kick your ass."

…

_Nathan Petrelli's office_

_Manhattan_

"Mr. Petrelli?" Melony knocked softly on the door before entering the spacious but cozy office that overlooked the city of Manhattan.

Nathan Petrelli rose from his seat, a politicians smile on his face as he walked over to greet her, "Ms. Levine--" He shook her hand, "I'm sorry to call you so late at night, and so early before you start, but this couldn't wait until next week." He motioned towards a chair and she took a seat, and then he returned to his seat behind the desk.

"There's no need to apologize, sir, I completely understand."

"Good." Nathan leaned back in his seat, and Melony was unable to ignore the fact that his hands were shaking as he straightened his tie, "Mr. Petrelli, are you ok?"

"Hm? Oh yes, I'm fine. Just a little too much coffee." He chuckled softly, and his eyes locked with her as he spoke, "Melony, listen--I'm afraid that you won't be able to work for me as my personal assistant. I'm sorry, but at the moment, that can't happen."

Eyes wide, Melony felt her heart sink at the same time her blood began to boil, "Excuse me..._what?!_"

Nathan shrugged, "I'm sorry." He repeated.

"But you handpicked me, sir!"

"Yes, I realize that, but...I'm going to have to find someone else."

"Can I at least ask why?" Melony all but growled, praying she wouldn't have to admit to her sister that she had been right.

Nathan smiled, "Because my senior political advisor resigned this morning--and I'd like you to take his place."

Melony nearly fell out of her seat. Was he serious? Career-wise, she's just skipped ahead about ten years, "Mr. Petrelli, I...I don't know what to say! Why the change of plans?"

"Well, I was going over your credentials earlier, and you're more than qualified for the position. Personally, I'd hate to see someone with your talent and determination waste it all as a meager assistant." He smiled, "So, do you accept?"

"I think 'yes' would be quite the understatement, sir."

"Alright, then let's get started."

…

_Levine Home, Manhattan_

Shutting off the power before closing her laptop, Autumn Levine leaned against the kitchen counter and sighed, _Don't wait up, my ass,_ she thought. How could she sleep when her sister was working for the crookedest man in politics?

Autumn had never met Nathan Petrelli. She'd never talked to him, psychoanalyzed him, or even talked to someone who'd met him. But she didn't like him.

He was seedy. He was corrupt. As far as she was concerned, he was a liar.

She'd tried everything she could to talk Melony out of working for him, but she saw the job as the opportunity of a lifetime, and Autumn couldn't stop her.

An eerie sound broke the already eerie silence of the empty house, and startled Autumn from her thoughts. Heart pounding, she was on her feet before she realized what was happening.

The sound rang in her ears and ate at her nerves. It was like a scratching or a tapping-on-a-glass-floor sound.

Ignoring the creepy-crawly feeling she was getting, and the goosebumps on her skin, Autumn rushed out of the kitchen and into the main room where the sound was coming from, her mind on the handgun in her sisters bedroom.

Sucking in a nervous breath, she reached over and flipped the light switch, letting out a disgusted groan at what she saw.

It hadn't been a scratching sound at all, but the sound of tiny legs scurrying across the floor as dozens of cockroaches snuck in beneath the door.

Mumbling a string of curses, she stepped over the skittish creatures to open the door, curious as to where they were coming from.

She stumbled backwards in shock, covering her mouth to stifle a scream as she gazed down at the, what seemed to be lifeless, body of a man, bruised, beaten, and bloody.

She was positive her was dead, until his eyelids rose slowly, and his dark brown eyes peered up at her.

"Help." He managed to say, so weak she could barely hear him, before he passed out again.

…

As she tried to help the man stand up, pulling his arm around her shoulder and holding him around the waist, she knew she was crazy. Autumn honestly didn't know how he'd stayed alive however long since his injury. Blood seeped from both his chest and back, covering his clothes, and now hers.

But at the moment, all she could focus on was how heavy he was, seeing as how he was over six feet tall and, at the moment, quite literally dead weight.

"No...hospital..." He whispered weakly, through raspy breaths.

"Somehow, I knew that." She replied calmly, "Ok...can you tell me your name?"

His lips moved slowly, but all that came out was air.

"Ok, you can tell me later." Groaning, she managed to haul him into her bedroom and lay his down as gently as she could. Removing first his jacket, then his shirt, she gasped at the nearly four-inch wide wound that penetrated him all the way through.

"How the hell are you still breathing?" She said softly, staring at his bloody, heaving chest before coming to her senses, "I don't know if I can do this...I don't know what it's done to you inside, I don't know how this happened, I don't know...damn it, I'm not a doctor! I don't know anything!"

He reached out and grabbed her wrist, staring at her with pained eyes, and she swallowed hard. She needed towels. Alcohol. Needle and thread. Probably whiskey--for the both of them.

He could die for all she knew, but she had to try and help him. It would hurt like hell, that's for damn sure, but she would stitch him up.

Gathering the supplies(including her sisters tequila from the kitchen) as quickly as she could, she set up a mini-suture kit on her bedside table. She sterilized a sewing needle with alcohol, before emptying the bottle onto a white towel. She knew this would hurt the worst, as she winced and pressed the towel onto the wound. After a few seconds, his eyes flew open and he let out a scream that sent shivers up and down her spine. Choking sobs erupted from him as tears poured down his cheeks, his hands gripping the bloody sheets beneath him.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry!" She yelled as calmly as she could, "Please hold on. This is gonna hurt, too."

Without any anesthetic, all she could do was give him a shot of tequila, let him bite down on a clean towel, and hope he would eventually pass out from the pain.

Amazingly, he stayed awake the whole time.

With each amateur stitch, he groaned louder and sobbed harder. She hated watching this stranger suffer even more, but it was either this or let him bleed to death on her door steps.

After she was finally done, the poor man was exhausted. His entire body was red, and not just from the blood. He couldn't cry anymore, but still sobbed, and groaned in agony at her next words.

"Now, let me do your back."

…

**A/N:** Really--I fear flames. But I will use them to roast babies for Sylar's dinner. I just hope he doesn't throw them in my face and yell at me. That will be gross.


	2. What Happened To The Hero?

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Title: Broken Things

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Rating: PG-13(rating _will_ go up in later chapters)

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Genre: Drama/Romance

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Summary: One man searches for answers, while another fights for his life. One man may find love, while another may find the pawn he needs in his twisted little game. Two women are doomed from the start as their fate is revealed and their lives are completely disrupted.

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Spoilers: For the entire first season.

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Author's Note: Wow! Who knew all you guys would read my little story? Im a big dork for not updating but, what else is new? :P BIG THANKS to CenasNakedInMyBedWithMe, Marebear007, lightning8star, Zakiel, Knight Selene, Stormbringer, Megami Hoshiko, and Keeper-Of-The-Cheese. Oh, and to Autumn Levine, the similarities are PURELY coincidental. Ive never in my life met an Autumn Levine outside of this story. ;)

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02. What Happened To The Hero?

Levine Home, Manhattan

After working all night, non-stop, ingesting nothing but black coffee and stale bagels, Melony left Nathan's office around five-thirty in the morning.

She'd have time for a "nap and a shower", he'd said, and then she had to be back by atleast seven-thirty.

Thinking of ways to prove to her sister that Nathan Petrelli was a good guy, Melony opened the door to their home and stopped abruptly as the smell of bleach hit her like a brick.

Covering her nose and mouth with her hand, Melony stormed into her office and threw her briefcase down before heading into the living room, where she found Autumn asleep on the couch in front of the tv.

"Autumn!" Melony snapped, shaking her awake. Groaning, Autumn flung her sisters hand away and sat up, "What the hell are you doing? What time is it?"

Melony shook her head, "What did you do while I was gone? It smells like you tried to cover up a murder in there!" She gasped dramatically, "Did you finally do it? Did you finally kill the neighbors' pervy son?"

Autumn shrugged, turning the tv off and standing up to stretch, "I was bored. The floors were dirty. I thought I'd clean them. Did that really cause you to need to wake me up?"

"Yes. That, and the fact that it's almost time for your shift."

"Damn, it's that early?" Shaking her head, Autumn headed to the kitchen to put on a pot of coffee, "So, did you 'assist' Governor Petrelli all night long, or what?"

Ignoring the subtle dirtyness of the question, Melony sat down at the counter and smirked, "Not at all. You know why?"

"Enlighten me."

"He fired me as his assistant. Then hired me as his senior political advisor."

"No way!" Eyes wide, Autumn smiled, "I'm not down with politics, but that sounds pretty damn important!"

"Still think he's all bad?"

"Hey, the guys' still a douche--but congrats!"

Mel laughed, shaking her head, "Whatever. All I know it, career-wise, the man just sky-rocketed me ahead, further than I could've ever dreamed. I have no reason to dislike him on any level."

Autumn nodded, pouring a cup of coffee, "You have a point."

"Speaking of careers," Melony shrugged, "Have you looked into that thing we talked about?"

"No, not really."

"Why not? I mean, do you really want to work part-time at a county hospital the rest of your life? Think about..."

"Look, I'm not in the mood for an Autumn pity party, ok? I'm glad you want so much more, and I'm glad you have the opportunity for what you want, but right now, I just..." She sighed, "I have to get ready for work." She picked up her coffee and stormed off to her bedroom, leaving Melony to wonder if maybe it was her sister who was in need of a psychologist.

****

...

__

Peter Petrelli's Apartment, Manhattan

As Peter Petrelli opened his eyes, a million questions swam through his aching head.

Where was he? Why? Was this heaven, hell, or purgatory?

Neither. It was his bedroom.

Sitting up, looking around, examining himself for injuries, he never would've guessed that he'd blown up in the sky above New York. But he had.

After the initial shock wore off, only one thought entered his mind: Nathan.

His brother had been right there with him in the explosion. Had he survived? He didn't have the ability to regenerate the way Peter did. A sickly feeling came over him, but he pushed it away. He had to find out where Nathan was--and whether he was dead or alive.

He didn't bother showering, but changed his clothes and washed the dried blood off his face before rushing out the door.

If Nathan was still alive, Peter didn't know where the hell he'd be, but since he was in Manhattan, he decided the smart thing to do would be to check the Manhattan offices first.

The doorman knew him instinctively and let him in, but once Peter made it to his brothers' main office, he ran into trouble in the form of a 5'6" redhead with an arm full of folders and coffee, "Can I help you?"

Peter didn't recognize her, and wasn't in the mood for introductions, "I need to find my brother. He's..."

"Who are you, sir?"

"Peter Petrelli." He snapped, "My brother is Nathan Petrelli, and I need to find him!"

She raised an eyebrow, "Mr. Petrelli is downtown prepping for a press conference."

"So he's ok?"

"Yes, sir."

Relief flooded Peter so strongly he thought he might pass out. He looked at the brunette and managed a small smile, "Can I ask where exactly he is?"

"Well, I'm heading there now and I'm already late, so why don't you just come with me?"

He nodded and without waiting for a verbal response, she was speeding down the hall and Peter had to jog to catch up with her. Once in the car, the brunette dumped the pile of folders in his lap before speeding out of the parking structure, then handed him a styrofoam cup of coffee.

"You look like you need it." She said, and he gratefully accepted the cup.

"What's your name?" He finally asked after several minutes of silence and several sips of coffee.

"Melony Levine." She replied quickly, passing a slow car on the road and then hitting the gas pedal harder, "I'm your brothers political advisor, as of last night."

"Nice to meet you." He checked to make sure his seat belt was secured tightly, then adjusted the folders in his lap before they fell, "So he was working last night?"

She nodded, "All night, actually."

"And the night before?"

"Well, I wasn't there, but I'm assuming, yes." She turned her head to look at him, "Why did you ask if he was ok?"

"Hm?" Peter gripping the door handle, "Eyes on the road, please."

She directed her attention back to the road before continuing, "Earlier, you asked if he was ok--did something happen?"

__

Yeah, we blew up. No, literally! Peter shrugged casually, "No, I just...I haven't heard from him, thats all.

"Oh." Melony turned the car sharply and parked abruptly, causing him to almost bash his head against the dashboard. He gathered up the folders in his lap and got out of the car, amazed that this woman was already ahead of him while wearing high heels.

After being instructed to hand the folders off to "the guy with the polka dot tie", Peter followed Melony back, past security, to hair and make up where Nathan was seated, going over some notes. Peter watched as Melony walked over, whispered something to Nathan, then walked away while talking to someone else.

Nathan looked up, and Peter could only imagine what he was thinking, "Hey, Peter. What brings you here?" _Damn it, what is he doing here?_

Peter shook his head. _Or not. _"Oh, y'know, stuff." Peter sat in the chair next to his brother and leaned closer, lowering his voice, "Nathan, what the hell is going on?"

"What are you talking about?"

"You know what, Nate! How the hell did we survive?"

Nathan shrugged, "I don't know--we did, though, and that's all that matters."

"Aren't you the least bit curious?"

"No, Peter, I'm not. We're ok, and we shouldn't question it anymore."

"But, Nathan...last night..."

"Last night?" Nathan shook his head, "Peter, what happened was two nights ago. You must've been out of it."

"Two nights ago?" Peter scoffed, "Well, how would you know? Apparently, you didn't even bother to check up on me. Meanwhile, you were the first thing that came to my mind when I woke up this morning. Nathan, what's going on with you?"

"Mr. Petrelli?" A stage hand peeked behind the curtain, "You're on in five minutes."

"Be right out." Standing up, Nathan looked down at his brother and sighed, "Peter, promise me you'll let this go."

"How can you ask me to do that? What happened to being a hero?"

"For me, that time has come and gone. I have another life to live, and so do you. Now, let it go." With a final glance, Nathan smiled softly before walking out in front of the crowd.

Shaking his head sadly, Peter wondered if his brother would ever chance, then remembered he was late for work. A day late, actually.

"Is everything ok?"

Peter looked up just as Melony sat down, "Yeah, I guess."

She smiled, "Tell me, honestly--is Nathan a harsh big brother?"

Peter laughed softly, "What makes you think I'm younger?"

"I'm a big sister. I know these things."

He shrugged, "Nathan's not harsh. He's just...stubborn, y'know? I try to get him to see one thing, and he sees the exact opposite."

"You mean, he's a pain in the ass?"

Peter laughed, "Yeah, yeah exactly."

She nodded, "I know how that is."

"Listen, I hate to be rude, but I'm late for work. I have to go."

"Where do you work?" She asked, glancing at her watch, "Maybe I can drive you."

He eyed her suspiciously, "Won't Nathan be needing you?"

"Not until after the press conference, and it could go on forever. Now, yes or no to the ride?"

"Yes, please. I'm a nurse at Manhattan General.

"You've gotta be kiddin' me. Do you know any of the psychologists there?"

"No--why?"

"One of them is my sister."


	3. Belonging

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Broken Things

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03. Belonging

---

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Manhattan General Hospital

Glancing at her watch for the millionth time that session, Autumn shifted uncomfortably in her seat and continued to nod her head solemnly. It wasn't that she wasn't devoted to her patients--when she was trying to help someone, she intended to _help_ them, not make some half-assed attempt that would only result in a patients addiction to anti-depressants. But at the moment, she was more concerned about the half-dead man that now lay in her bed at home.

After re-assuring Ms Bummblesmith that she wasn't crazy and just needed to cut back on her caffeine consumption, Autumn let out a sigh of relief. Her shift was over--now came the hard part.

As non-chalantly as she could, Autumn walked down the nearly empty hallway, quickly picking the lock and slinking into the nearest supply closet. Since she wasn't technically a "medical" doctor, she wasn't authorized to be there, and had to hurry before a member of the medical staff walked in. She needed gauze, bandages, anti-septic, a real suture kit or two, and something for the pain. She managed to stuff enough of what she needed into her purposely oversized tote-bag--everything except for the bottles of morphine she so desperately needed, which were locked tightly in a glass closet.

"What are you doing in here?"

Spinning around, Autumn nearly dropped her bag of stolen goods as she came face to face with a male nurse, "What?"

"This door is supposed to be locked. Are you authorized to be here?" He asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Oh!" She giggled idiotically, "I thought this was the bathroom. I'm here visiting my friend, see, she just had a baby and..."

He shook his head, pushing black bangs out of his brown eyes, "It clearly says 'Supply Storage' on the door."

"Yeah, well, it was an emergency. I didn't have time to read the door." She shrugged, "Where's the real bathroom?"

"Three doors down on your left." He smirked, moving aside to let her out. As she passed, she saw his nametag read 'Peter Petrelli' and she frowned. "Any relation to Nathan?" She asked.

"Yeah, he's my brother." He replied, annoyance clearly in his voice.

"Tell him congrats." She said quite sarcastically, before exiting the cramped storage room.

---

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Levine Home, Manhattan

He may have been alive, but he sure as hell didn't know how it was possible. He vaguely remembered being "rescued" and the excruciating pain he had to endure in order to stitch up the bleeding wound. After all he'd done, after all that had happened...he couldn't help but ask _Why?_

Lifting his eyelids hurt like hell, but he had to open his eyes in order to take in his surroundings. A bedroom, that was obvious, with all the usual furnishings, though he couldn't determine by looking whether it belonged to a man or a woman.

But judging by the scent of the pillow beneath his head, it was more than likely a woman.

He let out a groan as he struggled to turn over and lie on his side. His head started to spin, he fought the urge to puke, and decided it was probably best to lie still.

He'd made it through this. He'd lived through dying. He would rise again.

He heard a door open and close, and he shut his eyes. Seconds later, someone entered the bedroom, closed(and locked) the door, and took a few hurried steps towards him.

"I wouldn't be awake yet, either." The woman said softly, as she lifted the cover away from his chest, "I don't know if you can hear me, but I'm going to clean your stitches so the injury doesn't get infected. It might burn."

He flinched as she applied a cool liquid to his wound, and it _definitely_ burned.

"Sorry about these stitches, by the way." She said, "I'm a Ph.D., not an M.D."

She seemed trustworthy, he thought. She had, after all, obeyed his request of absolutely no hospitals.

Not that it mattered. If she rubbed him the wrong way, he could always kill her.

Brown eyes met brown eyes as he gazed up at her, bangs in her eyes and long black hair down her back. Looking at her, he wouldn't have guessed Ph.D., he would've guessed lonely party girl. But who said she couldn't be both?

When she realized he was awake, she offered a small smile, though it was slightly sad, "Hi." She said softly, like she was talking to a four year old, "What's your name?"

His lips parted and he managed one weak word. "Sylar."

Nodding, she took a seat in a chair next to the bed, "Sylar. I like that. It's different."

"What about you?" He asked quietly.

"Autumn." She replied with a meager shrug.

"Hm--like the season?"

"Plain and boring, just like the season."

"Or colorful and beautiful. Just like the season."

She shook her head, "So Mr. Sylar, how are you feeling?"

"Sore. Tired. Thirsty."

"Oh right, duh." She stood up, "How does water and a couple dozen Tylenol sound?"

"Good."

He watched her walk out of the room before drifting off into a light sleep.

---

Autumn took a deep breath as she retrieved a bottle of water from the fridge and searched the medicine cabinet for the Tylenol.

She should be afraid, she knew that. She should just pick up the phone and call the cops. But she couldn't. For some reason this man, this "Sylar," was running away from something, she'd known that when he told her no hospitals. He could be a serial killer. A rapist. A psychopath.

But he was also a human being, and he needed her help.

When she returned to the bedroom, Sylar had drifted back to sleep, and she took her seat next to him. He didn't look crazy, she thought, only half dead.

With two or three days worth of stubble on his face, and bloodstains dried on his body, he looked like he'd been through hell and she knew he had. She couldn't wait for him to get better. She'd found out his name, and now she realized there were so many other questions she wanted to ask. She saved his life, he atleast owed her an explanation.

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"Autumn!"

Nearly falling out of her chair, Autumn stood up and ran out of the bedroom before her sister could walk in. She dodged into the kitchen where Melony was standing in front of the fridge holding a diet soda. "Hey Mel...you're home early."

"My, don't we look like we've been in the cookie jar." Mel grinned, "Headache?" She pointed, and Autumn realized she was still holding the water and Tylenol she'd got for Sylar. Shrugging, she set the items down on the counter, "Yeah, I had a rough day at work."

Melony nodded, "Speaking of, tomorrow Mr. Petrelli is going to Maryland for the weekend, before he's officially sworn in.

"Ok, good for him." Autumn stared at Melony a second longer before she realized why she had told her, "Oh, you're going with him?"

Melony shook her head, "It's one weekend, and I need to. This is a crucial time for him, and it's my job now to be there every step of the way."

"What about your time? I mean, this is an important job. Don't you need a break before..."

"Autumn!" Melony snapped loudly, "I'm serious, I'm not in the mood for Petrelli-bashing right now, ok?"

"Ok, I'm sorry." Autumn crossed her arms and leaned against the counter, "I'm glad you're doing what you want. And you know you have my vote when you run for president." She shrugged, "Don't let my dislike for Petrelli get in your way."

"Don't worry."

Smiling, Autumn picked up the things she'd gotten for Sylar. Lying to Melony wasn't something she wanted to do, but she couldn't let her know about him. She couldn't condemn a man without first knowing his crime. "I don't feel good, so I'm just gonna go lie down, ok?"

She didn't wait for Mel's mumbled response as she rushed back to her bedroom and shut the door. Sylar was still asleep, muscles twitching beneath his skin as he breathed slowly and she wished she could do something to ease his pain. Selling back down in her chair, the last thing she expected to do was fall asleep, but she did.

When Sylar awoke, he managed enough strength to take half a bottle of Tylenol, though he wasn't sure what good it would do him, and that's when he noticed the book lying on her bedside table.

---

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Peter's Apartment, Manhattan

As Peter folded the t-shirt and placed it in his suitcase, someone knocked on his apartment door. He glanced at his watch, wondering who the hell was at his door so late, before be made it the front and opened the door.

"Hello." Melony said with a smile, and Peter let out a small groan. If the coffee-laden redhead was at his apartment, it could only mean one thing: Nathan.

"Well, gee, don't look so disappointed, it's not my choice to be here."

Peter offered an apologetic smile, "I'm sorry. Please, Ms. Levine, come in."

She nodded, walking past him into the apartment. That's when he noticed the suit she was carrying, fresh from the drycleaners, "Do you always carry around a change of clothes?"

He asked.

"Hm? Oh, ha-ha. No, this is for you."

"For me?" He took it from her and motioned for her to sit down, "What for?"

"It's from Nathan. It's what he wants you to wear when we arrive at the house tomorrow."

Peter tossed the suit over the back of the couch before sitting down next to her, "Again, what for?"

Melony shrugged, "He, um, doesn't want you looking like..."

He stared intently at her, waiting for her to finish, "Don't worry, Ms. Levine, I won't shoot the messenger."

"I think his exact words were...'homeless drug dealer.' In case of paparazzi, and whatnot." She cleared her throat nervously, "If it helps, I think he's in the wrong."

He sighed, "I need a beer. You?"

"Please."

Peter retrieved two Corona bottles from the fridge and returned to his sear on the couch, "Can I ask you a question, Ms. Levine?"

"Only if you stop referring to me so properly and call me Melony." She took the beer he offered her and he nodded, "Ok, Melony, fair enough. I thought were Nathan's political advisor--why are you running errands for him so late at night? Doesn't he have an assistant?"

"At the moment, I'm kind of both." She shrugged, "We're still looking for my replacement, so I'm juggling both jobs."

Peter raised en eyebrow, "Your replacement?"

"It's a long story." She smirked, taking a long sip of her beer, and leaning back comfortably. Looking at her now, Peter never would've guessed she was a serious, important, political employee. She was too casual. Too easy to talk to.

And Peter couldn't help it--she was too damn good looking.

The silence that overcame them wasn't awkward, but strangely calm, and he couldn't help but wonder if she really belonged where she was.


	4. Scream

****

Broken Things

__

04. Scream

---

__

Levine Home, Manhattan

Much of his strength had returned since the day before. Not as much as he would've liked, but enough for him to be able to sit up by himself and scarf down the sandwich his "savior" had made for him.

She was sitting at her desk, her head bowed as she frantically made notes in a manilla folder. One of her patients' folders, he guessed. She's told him she was a psychologist at the hospital and that she also had a degree in criminal justice, but what she really wanted was to be a writer. She'd described herself as a "typical head case" and then went to work a hadn't said a word since.

Sylar couldn't help but wonder if maybe she really was crazy. She hardly slept, she barely ate, and she didn't seem to have a social life outside of her work. Plus she'd helped him with no questions asked--that said something as well.

Not to mention the book on the nightstand, which made him itch with curiosity.

Maybe she just liked science, he thought. But nobody read a book that big and that specific just for the hell of it. And he could tell by looking that it had been read thoroughly from cover-to-cover, more than once. He wanted to ask her about it, but decided to wait. He still needed rest, he still needed to heal. And he still hadn't thoroughly made up his mind about her. Would he have to kill her?

More importantly--Would he _want_ to kill her?

Leaning back on the stack of pillows behind him, he continued to watch her, a war beginning to brew in his mind.

---

__

Petrelli Home, Maryland

After arriving at the Petrelli's mansion in Maryland--with very little trouble from the paparazzi, despite Nathan's worrying--Melony was lead to a guest bedroom where she would be staying. Down the hall from her was Nathan's office, which would also serve as her office while she stayed there.

While Nathan visited the rest of his family, Melony stayed in her room to unpack and "set up camp" so to speak. As she unzipped the suitcase that contained her clothes and toiletries, a familiar voice startled her out of her organizational daze.

"Hey, I guess we're neighbors."

Melony turned, smiling at Peter who stood in her doorway, "Well, look at you! You don't look at all like a homeless drug addict! Not that you did before, but..."

Peter laughed softly, shrugging his shoulders as he loosened his tie with one hand, "Yeah, right. I can't wait to get the hell outta this thing." He slung his backpack over his shoulder and shrugged again, "I'm gonna go get settled, but I just wanted to let you know I'm right across the hall if you need to hide."

She raised an eyebrow, "Hide? Why would I need to do that?"

Peter smirked, "You're in a house full of Petrelli's. _That's_ why you would need to." He cast her an all-knowing look before entering his bedroom and closing the door.

Melony had no idea what he meant by those words, but she had a feeling she would find out. She'd heard Angela Petrelli was a hardass, and even though this was a designated "vacation" for Nathan, she knew he would more than likely end up working all night, sorting out business over the phone and trying to get things settled in both his business and personal life, before he was sworn in.

And she would have to be right there with him. She smiled. Life was definitely going in her favor.

---

After she finished unpacking, Melony changed into more casual clothes and walked out onto the porch, taking a seat on the porch swing as she took in the beauty of the Maryland country side. She'd lived in the city so long, she'd forgotten the beauty of nature. She hadn't been out of the city since Connecticut--when she was younger, when her parents brought her and Autumn to the small lake house every summer. After they died, they left the house and the property to be shared equally between the sister, as well as a small fortune for the sole purpose of it's upkeep, but neither one of them had been back to the area since their parents' fatal plane crash.

"Hey, you ok?"

Melony jumped, thankfully startled out of her painful memories, "What?"

Smirking, Peter sat down next to her and handed her a glass of iced tea, "I asked if you were ok. You look dazed and confused."

"No, I'm fine. Thanks." She smiled, taking a sip of her tea and looking up just as a maroon mini-van pulled into the long driveway.

"Ohh, great." Peter drawled sarcastically, groaning. Melony looked up at him, eyebrow arched, "What's your deal?"

He shook his head, "It's a car full of Nathan's old high school buddies. All Harvard grads, all complete jackasses."

She laughed, watching as four guys piled out of the mini van. Peter grabbed her shoulder, motioning towards the guy in the striped Polo shirt and khaki pants, "I'm begging you here--watch out for that guy."

"Why? Who's he?" She asked, suppressing a laugh.

"That's Steve McManus. He's a big time New York lawyer, but he also has a hard time keeping his hands to himself. If you're the slightest bit female, _stay away_."

She smirked, "What about...him?" She nodded towards the dork in the track suit. Peter laughed, "That's Eric Lee. He's married with four kids. He's not a bad guy, but he's too naive."

"How so?"

"Cause he's never questioned why only two of his kids look like him."

Melony fell back laughing, shoving him lightly, "You're a bad man, Peter Petrelli."

"Yeah, don't mess with me. I know things."

She snorted, "Clearly! I'll stay out of your warpath."

He shrugged, "Hey, I'm really an angel. Just don't make me mad."

"I'll try not to, I promise."

---

"Nathan?" Melony knocked softly on the door, and Nathan waved her in. She shut the door as she entered and handed him a folder, "These are the printouts you asked for. Mr. Stevens faxed them over immediately, but Mr. Evans won't be able to get back to us until tomorrow."

Nathan shrugged, "Honestly, I'm glad. I'm not even technically congressman yet, and I already need a vacation."

She laughed softly, "But isn't it worth it?"

"Worth every wink of sleep missed." He smiled, "Ms Levine, I owe you an apology."

"For what, sir?"

He leaned back in his chair, "Making you do two jobs at once. I wasn't even thinking about another assistant when I 'fired' you, and it's unfair to you."

"Not at all, sir." Melony smiled, "I'm living my dream right now, Nathan--if I have to get you the occasional cup of coffee, so be it!"

He laughed, "You're sure?"

"Yes, sir. And monday morning, I'll get to work on finding my replacement." She smiled, "Need anything else?"

"Not at all. You're free until tomorrow morning."

"Good deal. Good night, sir." She walked out of the room, yawning just as the door closed behind her and made her way into the kitchen to fix a glass of iced tea before returning to her bedroom. The eerie silence of the two-story house made it seem as though she were completely alone, and it creeped her out, to say the least. She fixed her tea quickly, a strange feeling coming over her. She knew it was more than likely her overactive imagination, and laughed softly to(and at) herself.

Until she heard the noise outside.

She froze, setting her glass down on the counter as she peered out the window above the sink. Nothing suspicious that she could see--just darkness.

But like a character in a horror movie, she knew she had to investigate. Every instinct she had told her not to, even as she walked out onto the dimly lit porch, shivering against the late night chill.

"Hello?" She called, with no answer. She felt like an idiot, all the while she stepped down the stairs and onto the lawn. She forgot why she'd come outside, however, as soon as she looked up--she hadn't seen the stars in ages. It was all so pristine, serene and quiet. Until she found a hand on her shoulder and she spun around, emitting a sound that couldn't quite be defined as a scream.

"Whoa!" Peter stumbled back, staring wide eyed at her, "What was that?"

She cleared her throat nervously, "I don't know! God, you scared the hell outta me!"

"Sorry!" He said, laughing, "What are you doing out here?"

"I...well..." She shrugged, taking a deep breath, "I heard something."

He raised an eyebrow, "So you decided to check it out...alone?"

"Yeah, yeah, don't rub it in. What are you doing out here?"

He shrugged, shoving his hands in his pockets, "Just thinkin'. I haven't been out here in a while, and I'm not used to falling asleep to peace and quiet. Plus, being out here helps me figure stuff out sometimes."

"You got a Rubiks Cube going on in your head or something?"

He laughed, rubbing the back of his neck, "Somethin' like that, yeah." He was a quiet a moment before he spoke again, "Hey, can I ask you a question?"

She smirked, "Yeah, but I can't promise I'll answer."

He smiled, shaking her head, "So, uh...working for Nathan--are you happy?"

She frowned, "What do you mean?"

"I dunno, you just seem..." He shrugged, "Like you don't belong in politics."

"How so?"

"It just seems to stuffy for you, ya know? Too constricting."

She shook her head, unsure of what to make of their conversation, "Are you saying I'm stuffy?"

"No!" He laughed nervously, "I'm...I'm saying the opposite." He shrugged, "I don't know--I've only known you, what, three days? I just think..." His voice trailed off, and Melony urged him to continue. She was surprised that she wasn't getting angry, but rather curious.

What did he think of her? Why did she care?

"C'mon, Peter." She coaxed, stepping forward, "Tell me."

He sighed, opening his mouth to speak, but not getting a chance as flashbulbs went off in the nearby shrubbery.


	5. Breathless

**05. Breathless**

---

_Levine Home, Manhattan_

Melony had left on Thursday, Sylar had slept most of Friday, waking every now and then for some water, but then falling right back to sleep. On Saturday, all Autumn could do was sit in the living room and listen to the clock ticking.

There was nothing on tv to watch, and even the internet was dead(she'd even done a web search for "Sylar" out of sheer boredom, but came up with nothing but a brand of watches). Leaning back on the couch, she wondered if it was possibly for someone to die of boredom--or impatience. After four days of lying in her bed, the only she'd learned about the strange man was his name, and the suspense was killing her. Every part of her wanted to know everything about the stranger, but there was always the nagging feeling that if she knew, she'd regret ever helping him.

The annoying sound of a ringing phone shook her from her thoughts, and she rushed to the kitchen to answer it, "Hello?"

_"Hey! Geez, are you ok? You sound like hell."_ Melony spoke on the other end, and Autumn let out a small laugh, relieved to finally be communicating with some. "No, I'm fine--just sleep deprived. How are things in Petrelli-ville?"

Mel snickered, _"Fine, thank you very much. Nathan and I have wrapped up everything important, so we're just kind of chilling here until monday."_

"Chilling, huh? Is that a political term?"

_"Oh shut up. What's new with you?"_

_I'm harboring a potential criminal in my bed!_ Autumn shrugged, "Nothing much--I'm just kind of enjoying the peace and quiet. I miss you though."

_"Aw, I miss you too. But you hate peace and quiet."_

"I know, but..."

A loud clattering sound stopped the conversation dead, and Autumn nearly dropped the phone.

_"What the hell was that?!"_ Melony gasped.

"Um...uh..." Autumn struggled to remain calm, "I think a raccoon got into my room again. I gotta go--bye!"

_"A raccoon? Wha--?"_

Autumn clicked the phone off and threw it down, ignoring it clattering to the floor as she rushed to her bedroom where she found him kneeling beside the bed, her side table knocked over beside him.

"Sylar!" She ran over, kneeling beside him, "Sylar--what are you doing?!"

"I thought...I could walk." He coughed slightly, "Guess not."

"Come on, try again--I'll help you." She held onto his arm, groaning as she helped him stand. He walked across the room and back, stumbling only twice, before he collapsed back onto the bed, groaning softly.

"Not so hard, right?" She asked, and he stared at her so incredulously that she had to suppress a laugh, "Sorry. Are you hungry?"

He shook his head, his eyes already beginning to close again. She smiled softly, kneeling down to fix the bedside table. She set the lamp upright and began restacking the pile of books, when suddenly he spoke.

"That book--" He began, pointing, "You've read it?"

Eyebrow raised, she picked up the book and held it defensively against her chest as she stood, "Yes. Why?"

"It was _fascinating_, wasn't it?"

She took several steps back, unsure why herself, "Yes--I thought so."

"Why did you read it?" He asked. The pained look in his eyes was gone, replaced by a mischevious glaze.

At that point, she knew she should be afraid. But she wasn't.

---

Sylar stared up at her, eyebrow raised slightly as he cocked his head to the side. He wasn't strong enough for this--he knew that--but he also knew from the look in her eyes and the way she clutched the book in her arms that she had something to hide.

"Why did you read it?" She asked. He shook his head, "I asked you first."

She laughed humorlessly, "Why all the questions, Mr. Sylar? You're the one lying in my bed, half-dead and unwilling the explain why."

"You haven't asked me why."

"Well then, why?"

"Because I was stabbed with a 16th century Japanese sword."

She smirked, "I asked why, not _how_."

He chuckled, returning the intense gaze she held so calmly, "I'm lying here, half-dead, because they all think I'm the villain."

Still clutching the book, Autumn sat down in the chair beside the bed, "What are you talking about?"

"The book." He said, pointing, "I thought I was special. I was given false hope of being someone who meant something. When it turned out to be a lie--can you imagine how it felt? To be put on a pedestal for just long enough to get used to it, only to be knocked off seconds later...back into the primordial filth I came out of?"

She looked away for a moment, and he wondered if she did know how it felt. She swallowed, looked up again, "What did you do?"

"I got angry." He smiled faintly, remembering it all, "Angrier than I'd ever been. Rejection pushed me to the brink--so I decided if I wasn't already special, I would become it."

She shook her head impatiently, waiting for him to continue.

"I killed a man. I took his life. I took what made him special. I made it _mine_."

It wasn't fear he saw in her eyes--nothing of the sort. Intrigue. Curiosity. His tale had sparked something within her, and she leaned forward, eyes locking with his as she lowered her voice to a quiet whisper, "What can you do, Sylar?"

He stared at her, smirking deviously as he raised his hand, twitched his fingers, and sent her flying across the room and colliding into the wall, the copy of _Activating Evolution_ falling from her grasp.

---

Laughing sadistically, Sylar let out a mock groan of pain, "Sorry--but you asked."

Standing up, Autumn held the back of her head, too preoccupied with the evolutionary miracle to even think about the pain that throbbed in her entire body, "My God--you're telekinetic."

He nodded silently.

"There has to be more..." She stepped forward slowly, "If you killed one and took his gift, you had to have taken more. One kill isn't enough. One power..."

"Stop." He interrupted her, "It's your turn."

She froze, wondering if it was even worth trying to fool him.

"Don't try to stall," He said, "Don't try to lie. You have a power. Show me."

He was direct, she acknowledged with a smirk, and she wondered what happened to the sick, weak, dying man whom she'd helped to walk only minutes earlier.

"Every time it happens, I'm...angry." She confessed, "Incredibly angry."

"You can do it." He coaxed with a devious little smirk on his lips, "Show me. Get _angry_." He watched with intense fascination as she clenched her fists, gritting her teeth as she thought back to so many years ago.

"It was...the day after our parents..." She took a deep breath, "I was late to school. Melony was driving me, and she'd had to stop by the...morgue to sign some papers. When I walked into the classroom, the teacher pulled me aside. She was such a bitch. She got in my face, arguing with me about my tardiness. The next thing I knew she couldn't breathe..."

Sylar raised an eyebrow, and the next thing he knew, she was right beside the bed, leaning forward, hovering over him. She breathed in deeply, her eyes locking with his, and the next thing he knew, he was gasping for breath. He felt his chest tightening, his eyes burning as he tried to breathe and simply couldn't.

Before he could toss her aside again, she let out a groan and stepped away from him, breathing deeply. Sylar coughed, gasping painfully to draw breath back into his lungs as he stumbled out the bed and stood on his own two feet, ignoring the physical pain and weakness he was still fighting to overcome as he reached out and grabbed her around the throat.

"Are you gonna kill me?" She asked through gritted teeth and strained vocal chords.

"Do you want to die?"

"I've never lived. Only existed." She gasped, "Rephrase the question."

His grip tightened, and she closed her eyes as she awaited death. But then he let go, falling back onto the bed and laughing softly.

"Lucky you--" He whispered as he leaned backwards, "I'm too damn exhausted to kill." He closed his eyes, mumbling softly to himself as he drifted off to sleep, leaving Autumn in a dazed aftershock of power and confusion.


	6. Unfinished

****

Broken Things

__

06. Unfinished

---

__

Petrelli Home, Maryland

"Something you two wanna tell me?"

Peter stopped pouring his orange juice and glanced at Melony, before raising his eyebrow at Nathan, "Um...that...we love you?"

Nathan laughed, shaking his head as he laid the paper magazine on the kitchen counter, "No--that you two are having a secret love affair."

"What?!" Peter and Melony yelled simultanously as they crowded around the table, reading the headline on the front of the trashy tabloid;

__

"Governor's Brother in Secret Affair--with Petrelli Advisor!

Did she seduce her way to a job? Details inside!"

It also featured a photo from the night before, of the two conversing in the front yard.

Melony groaned, shaking her head. Peter laughed, "How is it a love affair? We were just talking! We're even standing that close to one another!"

"It doesn't matter!" Melony sighed, "They'll find any way to make someone look bad. Nathan, I am _so_ sorry!"

"Don't worry about it." Nathan held up his hand, "I'm calling them on Monday--if they want me, they can go after me, but they had no right to include you or Peter. Besides, if anyone actually believes this trash, they're not smart enough to even matter."

"Hey look, apparently we met in college and were spotted canoodling in a Manhattan cafe!" Peter let out a laugh as he glimpsed at the article, and Melony snatched it away from him, "This is a lawsuit waiting to happen, not to mention horrible journalism." She balled it up and tossed it into the trashcan.

Peter nodded, "What I don't understand is how they got the picture in the first place. I tackled the guy in the bushes myself. I even watched them haul his ass away in a police car!"

"He was probably the distraction." Melony offered, "I've heard of the paparazzi working in teams just to ensure a good shot."

Nathan shrugged, pouring a cup of coffee, "It's nothing to worry about, but I thought you two would get a good laugh. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a very important meeting to attend."

"What meeting?" Melony piped, "You didn't tell me about any meeting!"

"That's cause it's a Monopoly marathon with my kids."

Smiling as Nathan walked away, Melony pulled out her cell phone and dialed the number of her house in Manhattan. The last phone call she'd made to her sister had left her with a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach, wondering if it was an illogical idea to leave her home alone. "Shit." She mumbled when no one answered, sitting down at the table with her arms crossed.

"What's wrong?" Peter asked, taking a sip of orange juice as he picked up a piece of toast from the plate in the center of the table.

Melony shrugged, "Nothing. I just can't get ahold of my sister and I'm worried."

Peter smiled, "Why? You think she'll throw a big keg party and trash the place?"

"Her?!" Melony laughed, "Absolutely not. But knowing her, she probably set the house on fire while attempting to bake some soup, or something."

He laughed, "I'm not even sure how to react to that."

She shook her head, "Anyway, there's no political business to attend to, so I have nothing to do. What's on your agenda for the day?"

"A book." He shrugged, "I'm in the middle of a Proust classic."

"Proust?!" She raised an eyebrow, "That seems a little stuffy for you--don't ya think?"

"Hey! For the record, we never got to finish that conversation."

"Then finish it."

Just as Peter was about to speak, Nathan entered, holding a cordless phone, "Peter--mom wants to talk to you."

Lips pursed, Peter took the phone and looked at Melony, "Finish it after this?"

Melony clicked her tongue, "Excuses, excuses."

---

__

Levine Home, Manhattan

This was _definitely_ something to frame, Autumn thought as she set the grocery bags down on the table and pulled out the latest issue of "The Manhattan Mingle".

She never thought she'd see her sister on front of a tabloid, but there she was, alone with the murse from the hospital.

"Sylar?" She called, making her way to the bedroom, where she found him coming out of the bathroom, his black hair wet, wearing the clothes she'd laid out for him--a simple black t-shirt she'd bought from the men's department not long ago for her to sleep in, and an old pair of her dad's jeans. "Ah, a shower. Feel better?"

"Much." He replied, rubbing his jaw. He'd shaved, also, and now looked like a completely different person. He quickly sat down in the chair, clutching his chest, and she realized the pain he must be in. He wasn't as strong as he looked.

"Hold on." She said, walking towards the bed, "I'll change the sheets, and then cook dinner. I got stuff for pasta, cause you definitely need something other than sandwiches..."

"Wait."

She froze, looking at him, "What is it?"

"Someone's at the door."

"How do you know that?" The tone of his voice scared her for some reason.

"I heard their footsteps."

At that moment, the doorbell rang. Autumn stared at Sylar in amazement, but didn't question him as she held up a hand, "Stay here."

He nodded and she walked out, closing the door behind her before rushing to the front door. When she opened it, her heart skipped a beat before it started to pound incredibly loud and she swallowed hard, "Can I help you?"

"Yes, ma'am--I'm Officer Clark, this is Detective Kitch. We need to ask you a few questions and search the perimeter."

"May I ask what this is about?" Her voice was strained, but she fought not to appear guilty of, well, anything.

Detective Kitch stepped forward, "Your neighbor just returned from a vacation and found what appeared to be dried blood on her bushes and near your driveway. A lot of it, as a matter of fact. Care to explain?"

"I get nosebleeds. Do you really need to search my house for that?"

"It was a _lot_ of blood. Now please, step aside."

Clark placed a hand on her shoulder, "Ma'am, just please let us insid..."

"Stop calling me ma'am, and get your damn hands off me!" She snatched herself away, "I know my rights. I don't have to let you into my house."

Kitch handed her a piece of paper, "That's a warrant, Ms. Levine. And according to that, you do have to let us in."

"You have to be kidding me! How did you get this? On what grounds?"

"Suspicious circumstances." Kitch shoved past her into the house, and she let the warrant fall to the ground as she grabbed him by the arm, "Stop!"

He pulled away, "Technically, that's assaulting an officer of the law. So calm your ass down unless you wanna go to jail."

She glared up at him, watching as he began to inspect everything in site. When she heard the loud clatter in the bedroom, her heart stopped. Kitch pulled a gun and headed down the hall. "Stop!" She screamed again. Despite officer Clark trying to hold her back, she broke free of his harsh grasp and chased after Kitch, dodging in front of him as he opened the bedroom door.

Her first instinct was to protect Sylar at all costs.

Her first realization was that Sylar was gone.

Not gone, however, were the bloodstained sheets. The trashcan full of used medical supplies. The black trench coat draped neatly over the chair.

Detective Kitch didn't even look at her, "I'm calling CSU. Take her ass to the station."

---

Peter sighed, leaning back against his pillow as he opened the book to where he'd left off. After a few minutes, he closed it without reading a word.

Despite his best efforts, he couldn't take his mind off the unfinished conversation he'd had with Melony Levine the night before. He knew she probably thought he started to say something bad, but he didn't. All he wanted to tell her was she seemed to free, too spontaneous, to work in politics. But he'd also noticed that she was like two different people at times--political Melony when she was with Nathan, and carefree Melony when she was with Peter. But he'd only known her so long. Could he really tell?

__

Peter.

He jumped slightly, tossing the book aside.

__

Peter Petrelli. He'll keep me safe.

It took him a few moments to realize that the voice he heard was coming from down the hall--he was hearing Melony's thoughts. Her thoughts of..._him_!

He smiled. Why was she thinking of him? A knock at the door brought him out of his thoughts and he rushed to open it, finding Melony with an awkward look on her face.

"Hide me." She squeaked, and Peter moved out of the way and let enter, then closed the door. Suppressing a grin, he crossed his arms over his chest and looked at her, "So, who got to you?"

"The touchy feeley guy." She shrugged as she sat down on the end of his bed, "I won't stay long, I promise."

"Hey, no, stay as long as you want." He sat down next to her, "My bedroom is your refuge."

She eyed him strangely and he realized how weird that sounded. "Sorry." He laughed nervously.

She shook her head, "Hey, now we can finally finish that conversation. No hold's barred. Complete and total honesty."

"No hold's barred?"

"No hold's barred, Petrelli."

He sighed, eyes downcast as he cleared his throat and straightened up, locking eyes with her, "You're everything a politician is not. You're smart in all the right ways. You're young, you're funny, you're..." He sighed, "You're beautiful. And I know it's probably none of my business, but what made you want to go into politics?"

Melony stared at him with wide eyes, and shook her head, "I...I don't know. Peter, what...?" She laughed, unsure of what to say, "Where did all of this come from?"

"Let's just say I'm good at reading people."

She shrugged, "To be honest? I don't know how I got into politics, but right now, I don't really care. You've thrown me for a loop, here."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to." He placed a hand on her shoulder, before he reached up and pushed a piece of hair from her face, and she smiled. "Your hand is shaking, Peter."

"What can I say?" He shrugged, "I'm nervous."

"Don't be."

He leaned forward, his fingers stroking her face as his lips drew closer to hers. Close enough to feel her breath on his lips, and close enough to inhale the scent of her.

Melony's cell phone rang, and Peter froze.

"Damn it." They both mumbled.


	7. Praey

****

Broken Things

__

07. Pra(e)y

-

__

Manhattan Central Police Department

Leaning back in the filthy steer chair, Autumn realized the hard way that interrogation rooms looked nothing like they did on television. Dark, dirty, and stuffy, she felt like she was already in a jail cell.

She looked up as the door opened and in stepped Detective Tim Kitch, a man she'd known less than two hours but hated with all her might. "Ms. Levine." He said casually, sitting down across from and lying a folder on the table, raking a hand through his reddish-blonde hair, "I'm a straight to the point guy, so here goes--whose blood is soaking your bed, and why?"

She stared, unmoving, inwardly laughing at his stupidity.

"Did you kill a man?"

__

No, I saved a man. She thought, but said nothing. Had the evidence team not found the used bandages and medical equipment in the trash? This guy was an idiot.

Kitch cocked his head to the side, staring at her, "Or were you, maybe, harboring a criminal?"

__

A cold-blooded killer. She allowed herself to smile cockily, but remained silent. This was funny, despite her very un-humorous situation.

"You smug little bitch, answer my questions or I swear to God, I'll arrest you for potentially harboring a criminal, and if proven guilty, you'll..."

"Also be charged as an accessory to his crimes, yeah yeah, I know!" She shook her head, "I don't have to answer anything. I know my rights. I don't want a lawyer, I want to go _home_!"

He continued to stare at her, his face red, his nostrils flaring. He could do and say whatever he wanted, but she wasn't giving up on Sylar. She couldn't. Something about him had struck something deep within her, and she planned to keep everything she'd learned buried away from these leeches, for his safety. She couldn't figure out what it was about him or why, and right now, she really didn't have time to evaluate.

The door opened, startling her, and in walked officer Michael Clark, "Detective--her sister's here."

Autumn's eyes widened, "I said not to contact anyone!"

"Too bad." Kitch replied simply, walking out of the room, and Autumn resisted to urge to tackle him to the ground before he reached the door and suck every last breath from his lungs. Then again, she probably couldn't stand being that close to him.

---

"What the hell has she done? Why the hell--harboring a criminal?! I mean...!"

Peter suppressed a smile as he watched her pace, then he stood up, slipping an arm around her shoulders to both still and calm her, "Hey, hey, calm down, okay? It's probably just a big misunderstanding."

Melony shook her head, leaning into him, thankful for the relief, "God, I hope so. This is the last thing either one of us needs right now."

Smiling softly, Peter lead her over to the chairs and they both took a seat. "You want me to get you a coffee, or something to snack on?" He asked, "Cheese danish, maybe? I know a great little vending machine right around that corner there." He grinned.

Melony laughed softly and shook her head, "No, I can't. Thank you though. But I have to find out what's going on."

At that moment, a tall, redheaded, smug looking man in a cheap suit with a badge hooked on his belt look strode up, "Melony Levine?"

She shot up out of the chair, "Yes?"

"I'm Detective Tim Kitch." He looked at Peter, "Is this your husband?"

"What? No!" Melony shook her head, "He's a friend of the family. Now, where is my sister?"

"Your sister's in interrogation. She's rejected a lawyer, and is refusing to cooperate with us."

Melony sighed, "Explain all this to me. How did she get here in the first place?"

Kitch explained everything, from the nosy neighbor to the bloody sheets, and even what sewer maintence found.

"A blood trail. Leading all the way from Kirby Plaza to your house." Kitch shook his head, "Whoever this person is, it's a wonder they're still alive."

Melony continued to converse with the detective, but Peter heard nothing but the pounding of his heart.

__

Kirby Plaza...His mind flashed back to nearly a week ago. After the battle with Sylar, he and Nathan had blown up, but he knew for a fact that Hiro Nakamura had killed Sylar with the sword. Hadn't he?

Peter stood up, "Excuse me--do you have any idea as to who it was that you suspect Autumn was harboring?"

Kitch shrugged, "A few leads, but nothing definitive. We're not entirely sure they were a criminal, but based on the facts that they bailed and she's not talkin'...I mean, do the math. May even be someone she's partners with."

"No!" Melony growled, "No, my sister is a psychologist! She works in a hospital. She is not a criminal. She's never been in trouble, not in her life! Now when the hell do you plan on letting her go?"

"Whenever she decides to tell me something useful." Kitch was cold as ice, not having any sympathy despite Melony's clear worry and agitation. Peter would've given anything to hit him.

"Thank you, Detective!" Peter snapped coldly, making it known he wanted the detective gone, as he defiantly slipped an arm around Melony, "Come on--Nathan can help us. He has a whole team of lawyers at his disposal."

Melony sighed, walking beside him as he lead her down the hall, "Yeah, I thought of that, but...I don't want to ask him for a favor. Not this early in my position."

"Mel, Nathan's a good guy. He'll consider it a personal favor--he won't take it out on you professionally." Looking around nervously, Peter leaned closer to her, lowering his voice, "Listen, I think I know who it is your sister was helping."

"What? How?!" She stared up at him, eyes wide with disbelief, "Peter, how...?"

"I can't explain everything right now, but if it's the man I think it is, he is dangerous, and you're going to have to protect yourself and your sister at all costs. Do you understand?"

She nodded silently, staring up at him. Her sister was smarter than this. Was it even possible for her sister to endanger both their lives this way? If so, and if Peter knew who it was Autumn had risked everything for....

"You go call Nathan and explain what's going on." Peter placed a hand on her shoulder, pulling her from her thoughts, "I'm gonna go call someone myself. Someone who can help. He'll know what to do if this is...what I think it is."

She nodded in understanding and watched him walk away, before pulling out her cell phone and dialing Nathan's home in Connecticut.

---

__

Cavanaugh's Pub

Boston, Massachusetts

Mohinder Suresh sat in a pub in Boston, nursing a double scotch and glancing at his watch every other second.

After the events in Kirby Plaza, Mohinder had quietly dove back into his work, his fathers work. Seaching for people with the gene had lead him up and down the East coast, and now finally he'd settled in Boston, of all places. With Sylar out of the way, Mohinder could uncover as many specials as he could, without worrying for their safety.

His cell phone rang, and he had to dig through his messenger bag to find it. He flipped it open and pressed it to his ear, "Suresh."

__

"Mohinder? Hey, this is Peter Petrelli...."

Mohinder smiled at the voice, but a part of him was worried by the tone, "Peter! What a surprise! How are you?"

"_I was good, 'til now."_ Peter sighed into the phone, _"I have some bad news...I think._"

Mohinder raised an eyebrow, "What do you mean, you think?"

Peter explained the situation--something about a woman named Melony Levine and her sister, and how the sister was in trouble for potentially harboring a criminal. Mohinder didn't understand why this was so urgent, until Peter's next words made his blood run cold.

__

"I think it was Sylar. I think...Mohinder, I think he's still ailve."

Mohinder was quiet. Speechless. He felt his world, the world he was slowly building back up, bigger than it had been before, come toppling down again.

__

"Mohinder?"

Mohinder shook his head to clear his mind, "Yes, Peter. I'm still here." He cleared his throat nervously, "Where are you?"

__

"Police station in lower Manhattan."

"Are you still living at the same address?"

__

"Yeah."

"Alright, I'll be there later tonight. Peter, keep the Levine sisters safe. If it is Sylar..."

__

"Trust me, I know. And Mohinder? Thanks."

"You're welcome." Mohinder hung up the phone, leaned back in his seat, closed his eyes, and prayed. Prayed that it wasn't Sylar. That Peter and the sisters and the entire world would be safe.

Prayed that Sylar was dead, and forgotten.

---

A choking, coughing fit overcame him as he finally stopped running, collapsing in the darkness of the alleyway. The adrenaline and fear in his system had allowed him to bypass the pain and run for the sake of his life, but now it was all wearing off. The pain in his torso combined with his unending weariness was beginning to take a toll on him.

He had to get out of there. But how? And where would he go?

And Autumn. She knew who he was--_what_ he was. Would she tell everyone, or would she stay quiet? Would he have to go back and kill her? As cold as he was, as power-hungry, he wasn't sure he could bring himself to kill her. Well, okay, he _could_ bring himself to...but would he _want_ to? She had shown him compassion. She had saved his life. She hadn't screamed or run away when he showed his ability. She had accepted him without question, or fear.

Her ability was astounding. _'Breathtaking'_ He thought with a shuddering laugh, coughing again.

No. He _wouldn't_ kill her. Not right now. But he had to know if she'd said anything.

Sylar waited until nightfall before slithering out of the shadows.


	8. Gone

****

"Broken Things"

__

08. Gone

---

Peter recognized her instantly as she was being lead towards them by a police officer, a black trench coat draped over her arm and held tightly against her--the only thing they'd taken that she had insisted come home with her.

After Nathan pulled some strings, Autumn Levine was getting to go home with nothing but the possibility of a court date in the near future, although the cops were keeping everything they'd found in her bedroom and were still waiting on results from the fingerprinting process. "I know you." Peter said as she walked up, "You're the one I found in the supply closet!"

"What?" Melony stared at her sister incredulously, resisting the urge to slap her. Peter nodded, "Yeah, she said she was visiting a friend and thought the closet was the bathroom."

Autumn shook her head, hugging the trench coat even tighter, "Can we just go home please? Atleast I'm not the one plastered all over the tabloids." Her eyes downcast, she shoved past Melony and Peter, who looked at each other with disdain.

---

The car ride home was silent--Peter was at the wheel, Melony in the passengers seat, and Autumn sitting silently in the back. Peter couldn't help but feel like he and Melony were her parents, bringing her home after a long night of illicit partying. When they arrived back at the house, Melony couldn't control her outburst. Her sister had screwed up, and Melony was worried--not just for their safety, but their sanity.

"What the _hell_ were you thinking?!"

The door slammed loudly and Peter stepped back as Melony stomped towards her younger sister, "Have you completely lost it? Explain to me what the hell happened!"

Autumn turned, looking up at Melony, "He was hurt. I had to help him!"

Melony scoffed, shaking her head in disbelief, "So you did do it! He followed you home and you wanted to keep him, is that how it happened? Did he tell you his name or-or what he'd done?!"

"Yes."

"Autumn!" Melony screamed, "Stop acting so damn calm! If you were going to rebel at twenty-five, you could've chosen something a little less extreme! This is dangerous! What if he comes back and kills us both?!"

"He won't!" Autumn snapped back, "He won't hurt me. You don't know him, he's..."

"Oh, and _you_ know him?!"

"No, I..."

"How long ago was it? How long had he been here, huh?"

Autumn looked away, "Since Tuesday."

"Oh, so he was the raccoon in your room, then?"

They continued to argue, but Peter's mind was elsewhere--it all clicked. He stepped in between the two sisters, "Autumn--he told you his name was 'Sylar' didn't he?"

She froze, scowling in order to hide the look of shock on her face, "Could've been something like that. I don't really remember."

"You're lying."

"Stay out of it, Petrelli! Get the hell away from us, and go back to being your brothers crooked lapdog!" Without another word, she turned around and stormed back to her bedroom, slamming the door behind her. Peter looked at Melony, who was noticeably shaking and afraid, and smiled smiled as he enveloped her in a tight hug, "It'll be ok."

She nodded slowly as she leaned into him, slipping her arms around his waist and holding on tightly.

---

Holding back tears as she sat down in her desk chair, kicking the fallen crime scene tape at her feet, Autumn shook her head and stifled a scream, wondering how her life had turned out like this. Every day was the same. Her life was stuck in a time loop, completely repetitive. Even worse, her sister treated her like a child, and lashed out at her when she chose to act like one. She treated her like she couldn't take care of herself.

When Sylar had come along, she'd felt needed, appreciated, even _excited_. It was a change, that was for sure. Nothing she'd ever experienced before. Then he'd revealed his power to her, and she to him--the only time she'd ever done so, and she'd felt something else. Familiarity, likeness. They were alike. Something else she'd never experienced.

Wiping away a single tear, she shook her head once again and draped his trench coat neatly over the back of her chair, just in case he came back. But where was he? She wondered. And was he alright?

She hadn't had time to truly let it sink in that he was gone. He'd left without a word, and she didn't have a clue where he'd gone. Even worse, he still wasn't completely healed--in fact, he was far from it, and that made her fidget with worry.

He had been quiet. He had been secretive. Hell, he had been a complete and total mystery. But now that he was gone, she felt lonely. She missed his presence, she missed having someone to take care of, to take up her time, make the days pass faster.

She simply missed _him_.

---

Peter had made the decision to stay the night at the Levine's home, despite Melony assuring him he didn't have to, and that she and Autumn would be fine. He called Mohinder, who was en route, and gave him the address.

Tossing the cell phone aside, he sat down on the couch beside Melony and looked at her, "Are you ok?"

She smiled, "You don't have to keep asking me that, Peter, I'm fine." She sighed, shaking her head, "It's just, my sister...this whole situation is so unlike her. I just don't understand why she would break down now." Her gaze met Peter's, "And who is this 'Skylar' guy, anyway?"

"Sylar." Peter corrected, and shook his head, "And I'm not even really sure how to explain him, or where to begin. Just that he's dangerous. Crazy. I thought he was dead, but..."

"Well, how do you know him?"

"Um...it's kind of a long story." Peter laughed nervously, running his fingers through his hair as he leaned back, "I think we should wait until Doctor Suresh gets here. He'll be able to explain everything better than I..."

"Suresh?" Melony sat up straight, staring at Peter, "Chandra Suresh?"

"Hm? No, he died a while ago. It's his son, Mohinder."

Melony rubbed her forehead, trying to remember where she knew that name from, when it hit her. "Autumn--she has a book by Chandra Suresh. _Activating Evolution_. I remember she stood in line for it the day it was released, and I didn't get why she was so crazy about having it."

Everything seemed to fall into place in Peter's mind, and he shook his head, laying his hand gently over Melony's, "We really should wait for Mohinder."

---

Standing outside in the dark, he'd heard the entire argument between her and her sister, and he knew he could trust her. She protected him. She _defended_ him.

Now it was his turn.

His body was stronger, though strained from the run he'd had to endure, but he managed to silently pull himself up and jump in through the window.

Her room was dark, and she was asleep. He heard voices in the other room, and knew he had to be careful waking her up. The slightest noise would attract the attention of the other two, and frankly, he wanted to be out of there--with Autumn--before sunrise. Or before Suresh showed up. Whichever came first.

"Autumn." He barely whispered, and she awoke with a start. Sitting up and turning on the lamp, she stared up at him with wide eyes and smiled, "Sylar!"

"Shh!" He held up a hand, listening, not hearing any approaching footsteps, "Get whatever you need and come on."

"What?" She crawled out of bed, walking over to him, "Sylar, what are you talking about?"

"I want you to come with me." He stared down at her, his brown eyes pleading, "I can't leave you here. You're sick of this life, we both know that. I have to fix it--I have to fix you. Come with me."

She bit her lip, eyes averting to the floor as her mind whirled. Soon, she had pulled a messenger bag from under her bed and began packing. Nothing but a few clothes, her laptop, her wallet, and a toothbrush. She was still wearing the jeans and sweater she had been wearing earlier, and only had to slip on her boots before she turned around and looked at him, "Ok."

He turned around to face the window, when he felt her hand on his arm. "Wait." She removed his jacket from the chair and handed it to him, "I stitched this up. Kept it for you in case...well..." She shut her mouth and looked at him, "It's chilly tonight."

Sylar took it from her, a small smile playing on his lips as he slipped it on, "Thank you. Now, come on--we have to go before _he_ knows I'm here."

She nodded and obeyed, unsure of what he was talking about when he said 'he'(was he talking about Peter? She wondered...). She jumped out the window, landing swiftly on her feet and mumbling a quiet 'ow' as her arm scraped against the side.

With one last glance back, and Sylar making sure no one was coming, he scurried out the window, and he and Autumn ran.

---

Melony stirred slightly on the couch, and Peter rushed to answer the door before the frantic knocking woke her up. It was, of course, Mohinder Suresh, his trusty messenger bag slung over his shoulder with papers and files sticking out of it, which Peter found odd considering how organized the scientist usually was. "Mohinder, hey--I'm glad you're here."

"Peter. It's nice to see you again."

"Yeah, well," Peter stepped aside, allowing Mohinder to enter, and then he closed the door, "I just wish it was under better circumstances."

Peter lead him into the kitchen, where they took a seat at the table and Mohinder's hurricane of questions began.

"How do you know for sure he's still alive? What even makes you think it's Sylar? How did the Levine's get involved in all this?"

Peter explained everything, from the reports of the blood trail in the sewer, to the black trench coat Autumn clutched so tightly in the police station. And of course, her charges of harboring a criminal, and the used medical supplies she had stolen. "I know it sounds crazy, Mohinder. But..."

"I don't know, Peter. Are you sure you're not just...imagining things?"

Peter shook his head, "No, Mohinder. I _know_ it's him. The blood trail in the sewer? It lead from Kirby Plaza to here. Do you think that's just a coincidence?"

Mohinder shook his head, rubbing his unshaven chin thoughtfully, "No. I don't believe so."

"Peter?"

Both men looked up as a clear-eyed Melony walked in, arms crossed over her chest. Peter nodded and stood up, "Mel, this is Doctor Mohinder Suresh. Mohinder, this is Melony Levine."

"It's nice to meet you, Doctor." Melony smiled softly as she shook his hand and took a seat next to Peter.

"Likewise. And please, call me 'Mohinder'."

She nodded, glancing at Peter and then back to Mohinder before cutting to the chase, "Alright, Mohinder. Who is Sylar? And what's so special about him that Peter had to call you in all the way from Boston?"

Mohinder sighed, "Sylar is a very dangerous, very unstable man."

"I get that, but why? How? What makes him so dangerous? Is he a killer?"

"Yes. But not an ordinary killer. You must understand, Sylar is a very advanced human being."

Melony raised an eyebrow, "Advanced? How?"

"Well, if Sylar has shown interest in this family, surely you or your sister know what I mean."

Peter shook his head, "Melony doesn't have all the face, but Autumn has read _Activating Evolution."_

"My fathers book..." Mohinder's eyes grew wide, "Then I must speak with her immediately."

"Wait a minute!" Melony growled, "What facts don't I have? What the hell does this book mean? What's wrong with my sister?"

"No, no--nothing is wrong with your sister!" Mohinder said, holding his hands up in defense.

Peter layed a hand on Melony shoulder, trying to calm her down, "There's nothing wrong--with her or you. Let's just wake her up and then Mohinder will explain, ok?"

Melony stared at him a moment, blank and lost, before standing up, "Alright. I'll go get her." She smiled apologetically at Mohinder and walked out, leaving the two men alone to talk.

"Peter, has either sister shown any signs of..."

Peter shook his head, "No. I haven't seen or...absorbed anything."

Mohinder shrugged, "Maybe her sister is merely interested in my father's research, and nothing more. She's rather bright, I'm sure. She's a psychologist?"

"Yeah. I dunno Suresh. The way Mel told it, Autumn seemed pretty..."

"_Peter!"_

At the sound of the shrill scream, Peter was instantly out of his seat and rushing out of the kitchen, Mohinder not far behind. "Melony!" Peter rushed into the bedroom and was nearly knocked to the floor as Melony slammed into him. He wrapped his arms around her shaking frame, "What's wrong? What happened?"

"She's gone!" Melony pulled back, eyes glaring furiously up at him, "He took her. Sylar took her!"


	9. Morning

****

Broken Things

__

09. Morning

---

It was that moment between night and day, moon and sun. That moment where it's not one or the other, but a perfect combination of both as they come together for one fleeting moment of sheer and utter beauty, and then simply pass each other by. That moment that's so beautiful, and so sad at the same time. That moment that feels like it could last forever, or be gone in the blink of an eye.

Sylar blinked, and the sun rose. That moment was gone.

As he sat up on the uncomfortable metal bench where he'd spent the night, ignoring the pain that throbbed in his torso, he wondered just what he'd been thinking when he dragged the young woman from her bed in order to join him on his journey--whatever that was now.

He didn't regret it, _per se_, but now that he really thought about it, she could be a problem. She could get in the way, she could get hurt...

What she any better off with him, than with her family? He frowned, thinking about that question. Yes, she was safer with him. He could take better care of her than anyone else, and he would--unless she gave him reason enough to kill her. Her power was tempting, and he'd already stopped himself from taking it while she slept. Why didn't he just take it now and get her out of the way?

His jaw tightened as he closed his eyes. He didn't _want_ to hurt her. She'd helped him. She'd shown him compassion. Before and after she knew the truth about him. No one had done that before. He was a monster in everyone's eyes. Everyones eyes but hers.

Standing up, Sylar stretched the kinks from his aching muscles and sighed, looking over at the bench beside his, "Wake up."

"Already am." Autumn replied, sitting up and yawning, "I have been for hours."

He raised an eyebrow, "Not used to sleeping on sidewalk benches?"

"Not really." She swung her legs over the side of the bench and stood up, sighing softly, picking up her backpack and silently following him as he walked. He heard her yawn behind him, and she picked up a jog in order to catch up beside him, "Hey Sylar..."

"Yes?"

"Not that I don't trust you or anything like that, but...do you have any idea as to what we're going to do?"

He glanced down at her, eyebrow raised, his hands twitching, "About what?"

"Us--this situation, I mean. Where are we going? What are we going to do?" She shook her head, "I wasn't even thinking about all that when I jumped out the window with you. But I've never been one to plan ahead, so..."

"I don't plan." He replied sternly, "We don't plan. We see what happens, and go where we can. Plans get ruined all the time. It's best to just...go."

She nodded, "True. But what if..."

"Autumn!" He snapped, feeling his hands curl into tight fists as he stared down at her. His torso still throbbed, he hadn't gotten enough sleep either, and truth be told...his urge was back in full force. He thought he had it under control, but every time she looked at him or spoke to him, it took everything he had to keep it at bay.

He couldn't kill her. He _was not_ going to kill her.

"There isn't time for what ifs and..."

"Sylar, shut up and listen--we need to get somewhere stable, and soon. You can act as big and as bad as you want, but you're still injured, and you've still got a long way to go. You could drop dead in the next five minutes for all I know. You probably needed...surgery. I'm not a doctor, but I know you need rest. And dozing on a metal bench doesn't count!"

He stared her for a full minute, merely smirking. She was so much like him, yet at the moment, she was irritating him beyond belief.

"Alright. No more metal benches." He grimaced in pain, his hand flying to his wound as he sucked in a deep breath, "Any ideas?"

"Yeah. I know the perfect place."

---

Melony's imminent reaction of sadness and worry were both immediately replaced by anger and frustration, and it took Peter and Mohinder half the night to talk her out of storming the streets of New York looking for Sylar.

Waking up the next morning, her anger still burned, but she managed to push it aside as she sat up in bed and saw Peter sitting, asleep, in the chair beside her.

She shook her head as she stared at him, wondering why he cared so much--not that she was complaining. But she worked for his brother, and Peter didn't have to do half the things he had. He didn't even have to acknowledge her. But he did.

And she was grateful for that.

She tried her best to maneuver her way out of bed without waking him up, but as soon as her feet hit the floor his eyes popped open and he sat up, gazing at her with sleep-fogged brown eyes, "Hey...you're awake."

She smiled, "I'm sorry Peter, I didn't mean to wake you."

He shook his head, yawning, stretching as he stood up, "No, I should've been up hours ago." He said, glancing at his watch, "Although work is the last thing I should be worried about. How are you?"

She shook her head, "Fine, I guess." Shrugging, she walked over to where he stood, looking up at him, "I'm sick of worrying. I feel like I should be..._doing_ something."

She ran her fingers through her hair, sighing in disgust, and Peter placed his hands gently on her shoulders.

"Hey, it's gonna be ok." He smiled softly, "Me and Mohinder--we're gonna get everything under control, I promise." He sighed, "We should've already had things under control. We thought Sylar was dead, we never thought to make sure...we just assumed. This shouldn't be happening to you. I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault, Peter."

"Yeah, you don't know me, very well, do you? I feel like everything's my fault. But this--this is something I could've prevented. Something I was supposed to prevent. This time, I'm stopping it. Do you understand? If I have anything to do with this, we're going to find Sylar and your sister, and then he'll be out of your lives forever."

Melony continued to stare up at him, a dazed smile on her lips. He was like a superhero, ready and waiting to save her every time she needed it. She hated thinking something as juvenile as that, but it was the truth. She just hoped he wouldn't do something stupid. This Sylar guy sounded like a real piece of work--a psychotic piece of work at that--and the fact that her sister was now in his hands made her burn with anger. Though she wasn't sure if it was directed all at him--a part of her wasn't entirely sure if Autumn was kidnapped, or if she left on her own accord. With the events of the past few days, nothing would surprise her now.


	10. Sanctuary

****

"Broken Things"

Authors Note: I want to thank everyone for such wonderful reviews!! I wrote this story for the delight of myself and my Sylar-worship--I never expected anyone to actually like it! Thank you so much, every single one of you. You know who you are! And I hope you continue to like this. :D

__

10. Sanctuary

---

It was late in the evening when they finally arrived at their sanctuary.

"It's very old."

Autumn smirked, watching as Sylar trailed around the living room, fingers tracing the books that lined the shelves, his eyes taking in every picture that hung on the wall or sat on the mantle above the fire place, "Melony and I...we're the fourth generation to own this place."

"Hmm." Sylar pursed his lips, his gaze locking onto one particular photo on the mantle, "Your family's wealthy?"

"Was." Autumn strolled over to stand beside him, "Granddad was a self proclaimed mad scientist--dwindled most of his money away in crazy plans and ideas. Dad followed in his foot steps only he was alot smarted, and he built most of it back up. He left us with a small fortune, but the majority of it goes to the upkeep of this place, as his will asked. Mel and I have mostly lived on our own money."

"This is him?" Sylar touched the silver frame lightly, "Your dad?"

"Yep. A friend took this picture the day I was born."

Sylar looked down at her, his eyebrow twitched, "You look like him." He stated simply, before turning around and heading towards the hall. Autumn frowned, following him, "Hey, when are you going to stop acting all mysterious and answer my questions?"

"Whenever you ask some."

She arched an eyebrow. Now he was beginning to irritate her--or maybe it was just the lack of sleep, or the fact that she was basically on the lam at the moment. "You look pale, Sylar. Go lie down and get some rest."

He looked back at her, "What do you think I'm doing?" And then he disappeared into one of the bedrooms that lined the hall. Autumn shook her head and walked back across the room, kneeling in front of the fireplace.

As she got the fire started, she thought back on the previous two days with both amusement and disbelief. She'd broken several laws, betrayed her only family, went on the lam, and was now hiding out in rural Connecticut--all for and with a man she barely knew. And for what? All for her own selfish reasons. Her fear of her own power, her lack of identity, the fact that her repetitive life bored her to tears, quite literally most of the time.

Was that all this was? She wondered as she pulled her knees up to her chest and gazed into the crackling flames. Had she followed her curiousity, put herself in danger, all to find herself? Or just for a little excitement? No, she wasn't that pathetic. She had questions that needed answering. Somehow, she thought she could find them with this man. Sylar.

She shook her head, lying her head back on the couch she leaned against. It didn't really matter now, did it? She laughed softly. She was beyond hot water. She was undeniably at the boiling point--and there wasn't any jumping out now.

---

It was one-twenty-three in the morning when she heard the noise. It startled her out of her deep sleep full of rampant dreams and she was on her feet almost immediately. She rushed past the fireplace, now with nothing in it but burning ashes, and ran to the hall, "Sylar!"

The door at the end of the hall was open--the door that lead out to the garage. Had he ventured outside for some unknown reason? She ran as fast as she could and once she made it, she was hit in the face with the overwhelming smell of paint. She flipped the light switch on and there was Sylar, knelt in a sea of yellows, reds, greens, and blues--the paints belonging to her mother, who had been an amateur artist.

"Sylar?" Autumn took several cautious steps towards him and let out a gasp when he turned his head sharply to look at her. His eyes, once so deeply brown, were now misted over, limpid pools of milky blueish-white. His hands danced in the paint, swirling it across the concrete floor. She watched in awe as the mess soon began to take shape. Shadows formed, images...and then it was complete.

"Sylar, how did you...?"

Sylar threw back his head and groaned loudly, his eyes returning to their normal color. He was limp, exhausted, and would've simply fallen backwards had Autumn not rushed to him, kneeling and locking her arms under his and around his chest to steady him, "Sylar--what it is?"

"It's the future." His head fell back against her shoulder, his breathing erratic, "It used to not...be this hard..."

"You're still healing. It'll pass." She was staring at the painting, trying to make it all out. Where was it? Who were the people supposed to be? What were they doing? A man and a woman, facing one another. Their faces were in shadow, hidden in darkness. His hand was raised, as if stroking the womans face. Or.

No. It hit her, and she inhaled sharply, "Is what I think happening, happening?"

"Yes."

"So...you're...?"

"I'm killing you." He turned his head, straining to look into her eyes, "I don't know where or when, but...I'm killing you."

---

For someone who had just seen a picture of her death, Autumn was surely taking it well. Was it because she wasn't afraid, or because she simply didn't believe it? Did she not think he would kill her?

No, she knew. She wasn't stupid and she wasn't naive. But why wasn't she at all afraid? In fact she was acting as though she were happy. She'd withdrawn every cent she had before they left New York, and that morning had walked to a nearby market to grab them some supplies--groceries and medical supplies for his wound. When she returned, she'd dug up some old clothes of her parents from the basement and washed them, tossing Sylar a pair of jeans and a long sleeved t-shirt. _"Since you insist on ruining your clothes every chance you get."_ She'd said with a playful smile as she motioned towards the paint that covered his current outfit.

Now she was in the kitchen, and the smell of bacon, eggs, and toast filled the entire house. His stomach growling, Sylar realized just how hungry he was as he rose from the couch and gravitated towards the kitchen, silently watching her.

She'd showered earlier and now wore a yellow-and-white sundress that had belonged to her mother, her long dark hair still slightly damp, hung loose over her shoulders as she stood, piling bacon onto a large plate.

A small smile tugged at Sylar's lips, and he took a deep breath. For the first time in a long time, he felt safe. Like no one could find him. Like he wasn't in danger. He felt like he was..._home_.

"Breakfast!" Autumn called, whirling around and letting out a startled gasp when she saw him, "Oh! Damn it, you scared me!"

"Sorry." He chuckled softly as he strolled in and took the plate of bacon from her, setting it on the table before taking a seat, "I was just watching you cook." He eyed her up and down, raising an eyebrow, "I never pictured you in a dress before."

She blushed, frowning deeply as she sat down across from him, "Shut up! It's all I could find that wasn't completely destroyed."

"Calm down. I meant it in a good way." He smirked.

"Oh. Well then...thanks." She smiled awkwardly, still frowning slightly.

They ate in silence, which Sylar found comforting and not awkward in the least. He found himself _feeling_ comfort, like he could stay there forever with her--a normal life for two very abnormal people. That would've made him happy. Wouldn't it?

He couldn't deny the hunger growing inside him--one that bacon and eggs wouldn't fulfill. Hunger for a new power--for something new to play with.

Her power to play with.

A sudden pain struck his head and he closed his eyes, a thousand emotions, a million thoughts stampeding through his mind and pulsating through his veins. There were so many paths he could take. A thousand different lives he could lead. Which way would he turn?

"Sylar?"

His eyes flew open, his gaze landing on the pretty face that was etched with worry. "I'm fine." He whispered gently, before his body went limp and he simply slid out of the chair and collapsed onto the ground.

"Sylar!"


	11. Connections

****

"Broken Things"

__

11. Connections

---

"Superpowers?!"

Side by side, arms crossed over their chests in scarily similar stances, Peter and Mohinder exchanged tired glances before turning their gazes back to Melony, "Essentially, yes." Mohinder sighed, "The gene gives you special abilities, talents, or...super powers, yes."

The look on her face was something Peter couldn't really describe. A combination of humor, disbelief, fear, and sleep deprivation maybe. Oh, and anger. He couldn't forget the anger in her stormy grey eyes. Anger at Sylar, and at her little sister.

"And you think Autumn has this...gene?" Melony's eyebrow flew up.

"Actually, I believe both of you have it." Mohinder nodded, "The gene is hereditary. Chances are, one or even both of your parents had it as well. If not, your grandparents. If not them, your great-grandparents. If not them..."

The silence was broken by Melony's shriek of laughter. She clutched her stomach as she doubled over, gasping for air, "Oh my God! You people are _crazy_!"

Peter snickered, "Believe it or not, I'm pretty used to hearing that."

Melony stood from her chair, staring at him with wide eyes, "You mean you...?"

Silently, Peter held out his hand, curling his finger as if saying _come here_ and a vase from across the room seemed to float towards him, and then he held it in his hand. Melony stared first at the vase in his hand, and then into his dark eyes, "Ok, so you're _not_ crazy."

Peter's eyebrows rose in surprise. He half expected her to go into denial, call him a freak, and kick both men out of her home. "No Mel, I'm not crazy."

"So, that's your power?" Melony was pacing back and forth in front of him, her hands fidgeting as she spoke, "You can move things with your mind? Like telekinesis?"

"Actually, no. Well, yes. I mean, I absorb the powers of those I meet. That one in particular I picked up from..." He stopped suddenly, his eyes meeting hers, "Sylar."

"So he...?" Melony stopped, mouth open. She sucked in a deep breath, closer her eyes for a second, then sighed and resumed pacing. "Alright. You're a human power sponge, right? So Sylar is telekinetic..."

"And he can see the future, freeze water, melt solid objects, hear beyond human comprehension..."

"He has more than one?!"

"That's what we've been trying to tell you!" Mohinder cut in, growing agitated just as Melony was, "That's _why_ he's so dangerous! Because he steals other peoples abilities, Ms. Levine. And he does so by _killing_ them!"

Melony let out a startled gasp and Peter glared at Mohinder. He could've eased into that much gentler than he had, and Peter made a mental note to call him out on it later.

"So if what you're saying is true, and Autumn has this gene, has a power..." Melony choked back tears, trying to keep her voice strong, "Then Sylar is going to kill her and take it from her!?"

"If he knows about it, yes."

"But that's what I don't get." Peter spoke up, "If he knew about her power, he would've killed her in her bedroom, he wouldn't take her on vacation. And besides, we don't know for sure if either sister has the gene! Sylar showed up a random doorstep. A random woman decided to take care of him. That doesn't mean she has an ability."

"True. But we have to find out to be sure." Mohinder reached into his messenger bag and pulled out his medical kit, "Let me draw your blood, Melony. Test you for the gene. If you have it, there's a seventy-five percent chance that your sister has it as well."

Melony chewed her bottom lip nervously, staring at the needle Mohinder was ripping out of the plastic, "If I had a super power, wouldn't I know about it?"

Peter shook his head, "I had no idea I had one until last year." He stepped over to her, placing his hands on her shoulders, holding her tightly as his gaze bore into her eyes, "They can harbor deep down for a long time, lying dormant. Let Mohinder test you, and whatever it says, I'll be here. And no matter what, I won't leave...not until Sylar is stopped, and you and Autumn are both safe."

---

He was getting worse. So much worse, and there was nothing she could do about it.

After Sylar collapsed, Autumn had drug him to the bedroom he'd currently occupied--her old bedroom. Ironic, that.--and he'd slept. And slept. And slept. She tended to the stitches he'd ripped open, changed his bandages twice, and then sat with him the rest of the day. He hadn't moved, but cried out several times, from gentle whimpers to pained yells, and it broke her heart. All she could do was stroke his dark hair and whisper to try to soothe whatever pain he felt, mentally or physically she didn't know. Maybe it was both.

It didn't do much good, but she figured it wouldn't hurt to try something.

Close to dusk, she stood from his bedside and ventured outside to stretch her legs. She found herself on the back porch, ripping the plastic cover off the floral porch swing and sitting down, staring out at the lake about twenty yards away. The sun was setting directly above it, casting an eerily beautiful reflection in the water. It was truly a picturesque scene, but she couldn't fully enjoy it for worrying about Sylar.

He was dying. She knew it, and tears sprang to her eyes at the thought. What made her think she had possibly helped him? He needed doctor, a hospital. He needed...

__

"Autumn."

She looked up with a startled gasp, wiping at her cheeks and eyes, "Sylar! You need to be in bed."

"I'm fine." He replied sternly. He wasn't fine, but she decided it was probably best not to fight him on it. Slowly, he stepped over and sat down beside her, leaning back with a small sigh. "Pretty view." He said softly, turning his head to look at her and frowning deeply, "Why are you crying?"

"I'm not crying."

"You have been."

She turned to look him the eyes, and a war waged on inside of her. Did she expose her fear for his life? Did she ask him all the questions she was dying to know the answer to, like what they were going to do, where they would go, or what they even were to each other?

"I don't know, Sylar, I just..." She sighed deeply, and decided the hell with it. "I'm scared, ok? I'm scared _for_ you. I'm scared you'll die and I'll have to go back! I'm scared this won't give me the answers I'm looking for. I'm scared this is all in my head."

"It's not, Autumn." He said calmly, laying a hand on her shoulder, "It's _not_ a dream."

"I know. And yet, I'm still scared of waking up." She shook her head as she leaned forward, burying her face in her hands, "And you can take this however you want, but I'm scared of losing _you_. You're all I have now, Sylar. I love my sister without a doubt, but I've always felt like I was such a burden to her. Such a pain in her ass. After our parents died, she wasn't a sister anymore, she was a caretaker. Then it was her job to protect me, to keep me safe, to shelter me from the worlds evils, and I hated feeling that way. Smothered by and a burden to the only family I had left. But you--you were open and honest with me from the beginning. And you're the only one--the _only_ one--who knows about my...ability." She felt his hand on her back, rubbing slowly in a comforting circular motion, and she raised her head to look at him, "You're the only person I've ever felt a...a connection to." She frowned as she searched his eyes for any emotion, any hint as to what he was thinking about what she was telling him, "Does that make sense to you?"

"Yes." He leaned forward, pressing his forehead against hers as he closed his eyes and held the back of her head with his hand, "I can feel it, too."


End file.
